Progress onwards
by Mr.Zeze
Summary: Happens directly after Series 3 episode 13 of Tracy Beaker Returns. Tracy leaves to go to London for her new job and goes to Victoria Station where she loses her laptop. She finds her new boss and sends a letter to the Dumping Ground.
1. Fresh Beginnings

**This is the first part of my double fan-fiction story. I wrote this one the day after Tracy Beaker Returns finished, on the 24th of March 2012. The first part is called Fresh Beginnings.**

**Fresh beginnings – Progress onwards Part 1**

Tracy Beaker took one last look behind her.

"No way," she said to herself.

She couldn't believe that this was the last time that she would see that Dumping Ground. She had had the same feeling when she was 15 years old, leaving to live with Cam and Gary. For now, it felt as if she was leaving her second home.

Tracy looked at the "memories" book, and then looked at the Elm Tree House sing. She too out a red permanent marker pen from her pocket and wrote a tiny scrawl on the top right corner of the plaque. "Tracy Beaker. 24/03/12."

Tracy got a black felt tip pen from her pencil case and drew a cartoon picture of her smiling face. Then she left and walked out of the area, making her way back to her own home.

* * *

"What time are you going to leave, Tracy?" Cam asked.

"Don't rush me, Cam, it's only 9AM." Tracy hauled her luggage down the stairs.

"You don't want to be late for your first meeting at your new job I London, do you?"

"I'm not going to be late," Tracy said. "Where's my suitcase?"

"The last time I saw it," said Cam, "was when you were saying your goodbyes last night. Don't tell me you left it there."

"Oh, but I can't go back there," said Tracy. "Mike already saw me this morning and he'll think that I'm just using an excuse that I want to go back there."

"I could go for you if you want," said Cam. "I don't have to go to my writers' meeting until two PM." She saw the desperate look on Tracy's face. "I won't tell Mike that you're here. I'll tell him you've already gone on the train to London."

"Thanks, Cam," Tracy said. "Don't be late."

* * *

On the train to London, Tracy saw that it was packed with busy people. She was wondering if any one of them might be like her, anxious to go to a meeting for their new job. She looked out of the window seat and saw the greenery go past her.

She opened her Notebook from her suitcase and opened it. She began to type up some things on her web log:

"_I have finally left the Dumping Ground after living there for about 10 years and 3 years of working there. I am on the train to London, about to go for a taster day at my new workplace. I have been dreaming of this job ever since I was young!"_

The announcer called out, "Victoria Station" and the train began to halt. Tracy put her Notebook under her arm and began to stand up. The train instantly stopped.

At the same time, the woman sitting on the seat next to Tracy's, her coffee spilt. Straight into Tracy's bag.

"No! My bag!"

People started looking at the area that Tracy was in. The woman who owned the coffee cup got up and started to dab at Tracy's bag with some tissues.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, I didn't notice that I still had some drink left in it."

Tracy replied, "It's OK, it's not your fault that the train had to stop abruptly."

The woman reached into her purse and took out a ten-pound note. "Here you go, in case anything got damaged."

"I don't think that anything did," Tracy said politely, "only a little bit of drink went in."

People were rushing out of the train. Tracy noticed that some of them were looking at her as she was walking down the aisle as she tried to find her way to the exit.

"What are you all looking at? Bog off, losers."

As Tracy got off the train, she looked inside her bag. A few of the things were wet.

"Gosh!" she complained. She noticed that one of the things that were wet was her application form for an ID card at her new workplace. She didn't think that a £10 would help her look less clumsy.

Tracy made her way to a toilet that was guarded by a man in his late forties. He saw Tracy coming over.

"Are you OK, love? I suggest you put your computer in your bag before you go in there."

"I can't," said Tracy. "My bag's a bit wet so I have to dry it out." Tracy dragged her luggage and carried her suitcase and bag with the other hand, still holding on to the Notebook under her arm.

"Oh, so are you just going in there to use the dryer? I won't charge you to use the toilets then. Do you want me to carry that for you then?" He was pointing at the Notebook.

"Erm, OK then," Tracy handed it to him and entered the toilets.

She was the only one in there and made her way to the hand dryers. She took all the things out of her handbag and put them on top of the shelf directly next to the dryers. She opened out the bag and faced it in the direction of the dryer. Tracy waited until her whole bag had no hint of coffee smell on it and then started to replace the stuff back into her bag.

"Might as well dry this," Tracy said to herself, taking her application form. But as she started to place it under the dryer, the wet bits of the paper were beginning to flake off.

"No!" Tracy shouted, instantly removing the paper from the hot air.

"What's wrong?" said a voice behind her. Tracy hadn't noticed that someone had entered the toilets. This woman had dark brown hair with light eyebrows that didn't match.

"Just having a bad morning before I go to the taster day at my new workplace." Tracy put the form back into her bag.

"Are you off on holiday as well?" The lady was smiling, pointing at Tracy's luggage.

"No. I had to move all the way from Newcastle to my new flat here. OK, bye for now. If I don't go to this session, my boss would kill me, and I haven't even met her yet!"

"Bye, then," the woman replied.

Tracy pulled open the toilet door and was expecting the guard to face her. He did, but Tracy gasped. It was a different man, younger than the guard she'd seen.

"Hey! Where's that guard from before? He's just gone!" Tracy frantically looked around, as if she thought that he would just appear.

"What guard?" asked the man. "I've been here for the last fifteen minutes."

"The one that let me in here. He had my Notebook!"

"Sorry, I can't help you there; I don't know where he went."

"Well, I've been in the toilets for about 20 minutes. The man who guarded this right before you did, where has he gone?"

The man paused to think. "Well… his shift must have been over for a break now, so he probably went out to get himself lunch. That's what I'd do on my breaks, heh-heh."

"Oh just bog off!" Tracy dragged her luggage as fast as she could, looking around for the middle aged man. "Where's he gone?"

Tracy was seeking in every shop around the station, and then tried the bus stop. She could not find him at all. She wanted to panic, but had had enough drama today since she left the Dumping Ground.

Sitting down on one of the benches back near Victoria station, she began to think. What would Mike say if she contacted him to tell him that her taster day had been a disaster before she even started? His suspicions would be right about her, thinking that Melanie Jay would cope as a much better care worker.

Tracy felt a tap on her back. She looked to see who it was.

"Miss Tracy Beaker?" the man was reading off a label at the bottom of the Notebook.

"You! I thought you just ran off with that. Where did you go?" Tracy got up and almost snatched the computer back from him.

"Me? Where did you go? I was doing my job waiting out there for almost ten minutes and you still hadn't come out. By then, it was my lunch break, so I went to a shop while someone took over." The man wiped his brow.

Tracy stopped with the shouting. "Oh well, it took long for me to dry out my bag. Here, why don't I pay for using the service?" Tracy was getting the gained £10 out of her pocket.

"Keep it," said the man. "Just don't do it again next time." He walked away, disappearing off into a shop.

Tracy looked at her watch. "Agh! 2:30PM? I was meant to be there by three!"

She hurriedly walked down the road where the Victoria Coach Station was. She found the right bus stop, but couldn't help looking at the Coach Station. This was the place where her mum had told the taxi driver to take her to once their first night out together was over.

"Victoria Coach Station," her mum had said. The man drove off while Tracy looked behind her, watch her mum walk away.

* * *

Getting off the 36 bus, Tracy made her way through the jumbled streets of Westminster. Everything looked so different than in Newcastle. This was the new atmosphere where she would have to work now, instead of walking around all day, interacting with kids at a care home. This would be such a difference.

She had found the place. It was hard to miss. Quite a big building. "Much bigger than the Dumping Ground," Tracy commented.

She proceeded to enter the workhouse, the tower of offices with occupied employees rapidly tapping on their computers.

As she entered, she perceived the lively surroundings. Adults as young as 19 were walking into and out of the doors. People with briefcases walked slowly, not seeming to be in any rush.

Tracy reported to Reception. "Tracy Beaker. That's no 'E' in my first name."

The woman behind the desk was a young blonde, normal adult. She had a name tag sewn onto her blue shirt as if she wanted to boast about how special she was: "Olive. Office admin and receptionist." She tapped in some letters onto the computer.

"Ahh. Tracy Beaker. Fresh off another job? That explains the luggage, haha. You're starting here in two days, am I right?" Tracy nodded. "Good. For your taster day, you need to go through that door over there, the one with two books painted on. Through those two doors are some stairs and a lift. Go to the 3rd floor, and you should go past the meeting room and see the assistant. Tell him that you want to see… Mrs Jackson, your boss. Sorry, am I confusing you or do you need a map?"

"No, I'm alright," said Tracy.

"OK. Take these with you, you'll need them." Olive handed Tracy two pieces of paper, on one of them was the basics of the taster day. It mentioned all the rules, going-ons and advice on what will be coming up.

Tracy checked to see what the other paper was. "Oh, thanks," she told Olive. "My one got destroyed by someone's coffee." Tracy put the leaflet and the application form in her bag, and pulled her luggage towards the blue door that Olive had told her to go through.

A few minutes later, and Tracy had found the assistant. "I'm here to see Mrs Jackson."

"Yes, this way," he motioned her to follow her. "Tracy Beaker, well done on getting this job. And good luck with all the writing you'll have to do. I will look forward to reading them when they are published."

"Oh," Tracy said. "You're not my manager then, Mr…?"

"Hurst. No, I'm not your manager; I'm the assistant for all he meetings that take place in that room you just walked past. You'll meet your manager once you meet your boss. Here's the room. Remember to knock before entering." Mr Hurst walked away back to the meeting room.

Tracy took a deep breath and stared at the white walls. She knocked on the door.

"Come in," said a pleasant voice, unmistakeably no one else's but Tracy's new boss…

**Keep your eyes peeled, for the second and last part of this.**


	2. Office Beaker

**Office Beaker – Progress onwards Part 2**

Situated in a cosy office, Tracy was sipping a mug of tea. "Tea or coffee?" Mrs Jackson had asked her. Tracy recoiled when she mentioned 'Coffee' so she said "tea" without any hesitation.

"So, did you bring your Id application form?" asked Mrs Jackson. This woman looked more menacing than Tracy imagined her to be. But she was at least kind. Not strict or surly like usual bosses. The office walls were plain, but had picture frames of saying and quotations by authors that Tracy had never really heard of.

"Miss Beaker?" Mrs Jackson said, breaking into Tracy's thoughts.

"Oh yes. It's here," Tracy took out a paper from her bag.

"Ooh," Mrs Jackson said, her eyebrow curling. "It seems to be a bit stained with something."

Tracy saw that she was holding the original form, the coffee stained one. "Why didn't I throw this away?" Tracy thought. She said out loud, "Sorry, this is the wrong one. I got a new form right here," Tracy got the correct one. "Should I fill it in now?"

"If you must," said Mrs Jackson. "Take your time, we don't start the taster session until half three. I'm so excited to hear about your work with children."

"Well, once I start to talk about that, I can't stop. I've got so much to say about that," said Tracy, not looking up from the paper.

"We like that," said Mrs Jackson. "You have to be overflowing with ideas if you want to work here, at the Writers' Corner."

"Yes, and I heard that some workers here have written a whole magazine worth of news about the councils in London."

"That is true," Mrs Jackson said. "We aspire to have the best writers here Miss Beaker, and you seem to have a lot of influence and experience. After all, you've written an autobiography, columns for newspapers while working at a care home at the same time, and you're the daughter of Camilla Lawson."

Tracy smiled. Cam would be so pleased that her name was being mentioned in an office in London.

Mrs Jackson added, "So, Tracy. I'll explain what will happen today and then we can get along with it."

* * *

"So Tracy," said Mrs Jackson, now outside the office. "Time to meet your manager."

Mrs Jackson and Tracy walked down the hall and stepped into a little office. "Tracy, meet your new manager, Miss Karen Dove."

"Oh!" Tracy said, when she saw Miss Dove.

"Oh?" asked Mrs Jackson.

"Yes oh," said Miss Dove. "We met earlier on. Victoria Station toilets?"

"Yeah that was it," said Tracy. "She saw me drying my handbag out."

"So Tracy," said Miss Dove. People seemed to be saying this quite a lot. "I'm your manager in this place. You send all your works to me before publication. If you need any help, you come to me also, and when you start work, this is the place you come to first before your induction with Mrs Jackson."

"You got that Tracy?" Mrs Jackson took her out of the room. "Good. Now the taster session begins."

That day was quite a rapid move for Tracy. Various Things had to be done by her. And she had to learn how to utilise the services. She was taught how to use the intercom, send minor articles to her manager, and then finally got her ID card.

"Guard this with your life," Mrs Jackson told Tracy. "With this, you need to get into the building. And also, it gives you access to your own office."

"I have an office? My own one?"

"Yes, it's just around here. No one can get in without your permission, and all you need to do is put your ID card here," Mrs Jackson pointed at a bit in the wall. "You do that, and the office door opens automatically."

"OK, got that," said Tracy.

"Now," said Mrs Jackson, "The tour is officially over! I hope to see you working here in two days."

* * *

26 March 2012

Tracy Beaker sat in her gleaming new office. Her boss had not given her any work yet. So Tracy decided to sort out everything in her office.

She set it out as if it were her bedroom, comfortable as she wanted it to be. Her favourite posters to the side of her, her Notebook placed on the desk.

And right next to her photo of her and Cam, was the Tracy Beaker Memories book.

"You know what?" she thought to herself. I'm going to give this office a name. Office Beaker, that's a good one."

When Tracy had finished sorting out her office, she was thinking of what to do next.

"Since Mrs Jackson hasn't set me any tasks yet, I'll write a letter."

Tracy got out a pen and pad.

"_Dear Dumping Ground, I have finally made it to my first day at The Writers' Corner. It has an excellent working atmosphere, very different to where you are now. I'm so glad I'm here, although I really did have fun with you guys over the years. How is everyone so far? I know I just left two days ago but I want to know how everyone is without me. OK, I have to go now; my boss could come to me in any minute. Bye everyone._

_Tracy Beaker. _

* * *

Mike Milligan picked up the Elm Tree post. He picked up the letter at the top.

"Hey, is that Tracy's handwriting? Everyone, I think we've got a letter from Tracy!" mike called.

Mike walked into the kitchen.

"What's that Mike?" asked Carmen.

"Letter from Tracy," he replied.

"Read it out!" said Lily and Tee.

"Ok guys." Mike ripped open the envelope and unfolded the paper. "Dear Dumping Ground…"

**So, that's it. What do you think? It's my first double story and I only made it to fill in my series of Tracy Beaker Returns that I was writing every week while it was on.**


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